Before You Go
by Rojia
Summary: Everything starts somewhere. Please remember this is very old, I am leaving it because of the reviews and such.
1. Chapter 1

Before You Go…

Chapter 1

Tristan paused as he heard the men about him speaking, telling of the return of the former knights and the coming of the Romans for the new boys. He knew very well he was the one of which they spoke, his father had once been a knight, and now it would be his turn.

He turned around and walked toward the only home behind him still lit by a lantern. He ignored the questioning glances sent his way by the people that even noticed him. They thought it odd that a boy of 18 would be allowed to wonder the village in the middle of the night without some work to do.

What they did not know was that, in his own mind, he did have work to do. His mind had immediately turned to the sun tattoo on her left shoulder, the braids she had put in his hair for him the summer before. He couldn't leave without at the very least speaking to her again.

Douma sat in the chair she had fallen asleep in, her head tilted against the back and the dress she had been mending in her lap. She blinked at the candle as the flame flickered, realizing how late it must have been for so much of the wax to be gone. She lifted her head and pulled the neck of the dress she wore toward her neck, covering her tattoo.

"It is late."

She turned to find a hand covering her mouth and Tristan's finger pressed to his lips. "We have no time, I will ask you once and only once. Will you come with me, now?"

She starred into his dark eyes for a moment before nodding. When he released her mouth she stood quietly, "Tristan…." _'Tell him.'_

She paused and stared at his back as he worked his way to the trunk of the tree beyond the shutters. "Come." He said, holding out his hand to help her through.

She reached out and took his hand.

He reached up to help her to the ground as she jumped down beside him. "Where are we going?" She asked quietly, looking somewhat worried.

"Do you want to walk by the river tonight?" He asked, glancing at a small dog that he guessed looked cleaner then he did, even in this light.

"I am to follow you tonight, remember?" She said with a slight smile, pushing her hair out of her face as she walked. She stepped up on a log and held out her hands, balancing herself as she walked along it.

He stared after her, walking a little slower as if to appreciate her. _'You love her Tristan.'_ The voice that spoke in his dreams replied. _'You know it, all you have to do is tell her. She will either love you as well or fear you, there is nothing else for it.'_

"You're quiet tonight."

He blinked and saw her looking at him, bent down at the other end of the log and grinning back at him. She smiled and he returned the gesture. "I was just… thinking." He said, leaning against the tall end of the log a few inches from her feet, folding his arms beneath his chin. "They say that the Romans are coming for new knights for Briton." He said quietly.

"They have also said you are less human then the hawks you so dearly love to watch." She retorted with another smile, tilting her head faintly to one side. "But this at least I know not to be true."

_'Really? You do not think I am inhuman?' _"Is that so?" He asked.

"It is." She answered with a smile.

"Who says I am human beside you?" He asked with a grin, teasing her.

"Now, did you not say something about the river?"

He smiled and stood up. "I did."

"Well." She turned to face the river, still crouched down with her elbows on her knees. "If you are indeed more hawk then human then you must be quite fast."

"Yes, and…?" He prompted.

"And if you are so fast, then I should not be able to, beat you there." She said, looking away from the trees and to him.

"Oh." He said, walking around the edge of the log, "Are we to wager then?"

"The thought never came to my mind." She said, looking to the trees again before looking back at him, "But if it had, I am interested to know what the prizes might be." She asked with a look he knew all to well.

"Shall we say…" He paused as if in thought, although he knew what he would ask. "If you win, I will let you go home and you can sleep in peace for the rest of the night." He said, reaching the opposite side of the log.

"And, in the undoubtedly secure chance that you win, your birdlyness?" She asked playfully.

"Maybe…." He paused again. "Let us say I were to ask of you the minimal reward… of a kiss. What would you say to that?" He asked, laying his hand on the hilt of the sword at his waist as he stopped.

"I would say…." She said slowly, leaning forward somewhat. "I accept." With that she pushed him to the ground and jumped off the log, running toward the trees.

"Cheater!" He roared as he shot back to his feet and followed after her path.

"That was the idea!" Her voice replied from the darkness ahead of him.

He grinned slightly and lowered his head, lengthening his strides and catching up enough to hear her feet hitting the path. He ran around her and sped as fast as he could to the bank of the river, hiding behind a tree near the shore and waiting.

"You've lost!" She called back as she passed in front of him.

"I do not believe so." He said, reaching out and catching one of the many braids on the right side of her head. "You lost by miles."

"Then you truly are a hawk." She said with a deride bow, "Lord of the Eagles."

He continued to hold the braid as she tried to pull it away. "I am afraid that I can not let you go until you have given me my reward."

She blinked and giggled, "You mean to hold me to my word?" She inquired, in no way striving to hide the laughter in her voice.

"I do." He said somewhat more seriously then he had been before.

She stopped laughing and looked questioningly at him for a moment, as if contemplating weather or not to speak.

"Well?" He asked with a grin, tugging slightly at the braid in his hand.

"You are serious." She said with slight disbelief.

"Of course I am." He replied, _'Do not be annoyed…'_ The voice cautioned. "It is a extraordinary occurrence true, but it is known to happen at least once in a year."

She grinned, "You truly expect a kiss then?" She asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Truly." He rejoined.

"Then, as is your right by our agreement, you will receive one." She said, looking at his shirt in an attempt to avoid his eyes and hide the reddish tint to her cheeks.

He leaned forward and released the braid. _'This is too good….'_

"DOUMA!" A voice called, causing her to turn her head away to the side as he stopped and looked himself.

Several yards into the trees was the glow of a torch. "Douma! Where are you?" Her father's voice called again.

"Go." Tristan said as he stood straight again, "He will be angry if he finds you with me."

"But your reward you were so insistent upon before?"

He grinned slightly, "I'll collect it another night."

She smiled and went toward the torch quickly, whispering back to him, "Goodnight Tristan."

"Goodnight Douma." He replied as she passed out of the rage of his voice. He leaned against the tree behind him and watched the torch as it grew smaller. He looked up through the branches of the tree, "I love you."


	2. Chapter 2

Before You Go…

Chapter 2

"Tristan!"

He blinked and opened his eyes in time to see the stick before it hit him in the stomach. He sat up and doubled over almost instantly, a sharp pain racing from the point of impact outward in every direction. "What did he do?" One of the boys asked when Tristan had regained his breath.

The large boy holding the stick spoke, "The appropriate question is, _'What has he not done?'_ You poor bastard!" He jeered down at him with a gap-toothed smile. "All we ever hear about is how great a knight you will become, how amazing you are when it comes to fighting. Well," He kicked him in the stomach, pain racing to his extremities again. "Not so amazing after all, are we?"

He rolled over several times and, once on his hands and knees, shook his head. "You are annoying." He said in a calm voice he normally reserved for his 'family'.

"What did you say, little hero?" The boy asked, "You want another beating?" He lifted the stick again and swung it down, a loud thud echoing through the small clearing they were in.

For an instant nothing stirred, the air seemed to stand still as the older and larger boys stared in sheer astonishment. The stick had indeed connected with Tristan's flesh, but while the larger boy had been swinging, Tristan had been moving as well. "You missed." Tristan said, his hand still wrapped around the club.

Douma stopped short as she came around the corner in the path. She stood perfectly still and watched the limp form in front of her. "Hello?" She said quietly. When no one answered she stepped forward, crouched down and tapped the man on the shoulder. "Are you ill?"

The boy rolled over and she saw the face of the man she knew to be a knight, one of several placed in her village for training. This was the one they called Tristan, the one that had no reserves about killing. She drew her hand back until she was sure he wasn't going to harm her. Upon closer inspection she realized that he was covered in cuts and bruises, the tattoos on his face blotted out by the blood.

"Stay here, I will be back shortly." She said, starting to rise.

"No." He said shortly, grabbing onto her wrist, "No, I am fine…" He tried to sit up and felt the pain in his chest almost as if he had just been hit again.

She stopped moving the instant his hand touched her, she had been told stories of the terrible things he had done. "Please, release me…" She stared down at him and waited for an answer.

He released her wrist and fell back to the ground, coughing up a minute amount of blood. "Or maybe I am not…" He said, as he allowed himself to settle into the grass again.

"I will get you help." She said shortly, turning and walking several steps before she paused to look back.

"Please…" He said softly. "Do not leave me here alone, they may not all be dead or still afraid."

She looked down at him for a long moment and nodded. "I will stay with you for now."

He grinned slightly, "Thank you." After a moments pause he added, "Do not fear me, I do not bite." He laughed faintly and let his head rest flat on the ground.

She watched him for a mere moment before moving closer and sitting down beside him, her knees folded against her chest and her hands on top of them. "I will wait to leave until you awaken, then you will not find yourself suddenly alone." She stayed, against her better judgment, until the next morning.

"TRISTAN!"

His eyes opened and he jolted back at the loud sound without registering it was his name. He looked around for a moment before realizing that Douma was crouched in front of him. "Good morning." He said, judging by the light.

"Good morning?" She said questioningly, "It is near mid-day."

He stretched against the tree behind him and yawned, "Why did you come all the way out to the river to awaken me? I was having a rather pleasant dream." As he finished he closed his eyes again as if to go back to sleep.

"The Romans, they wish the presence of all of the knights." She said, poking him in the side. "They are interested in how you are making progress. If you do not wish them to come looking for you themselves, I suggest you come back with us."

"Us?" He asked, his eyes still closed in a pretend effort to sleep again.

"Galahad and I." She replied, "Were sent to find you and bring you …"

"Of course, Galahad." He said halfheartedly. "I suppose he volunteered?"

"Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?" She asked, still crouched down.

He opened his eyes and looked at her, his eyes pausing momentarily on the tattoo on her left shoulder, "Absolutely nothing I suppose." He said, closing his eyes again.

"You are odd." She said in a matter of fact way. "And you sleep too much."

"Why did you stay?" He said quietly, glancing around to be sure Galahad was indeed nowhere around.

"What?" She asked, obviously confused. "I left…"

"Not last night." He interjected, "The day you first found me laying out in the woods, why did you not simply run away like most would have done?"

She thought for a moment. "You needed my help, and I had sworn to my father not to allow a single knight to die before the Romans come to get them..." As she spoke he had closed his eyes again.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her up against him, "Let them come, I am too tired to get up and walk all the way back to the village." He said, keeping his arm around her just enough to prevent her from rising.

She punched him in the chest as her face turned red, "Tristan, we have to go back…." When he didn't move or reply she added quietly, "Please let me go before…"

"Am I, interrupting something?" Galahad inquired from where he had just come around a tree.

"Yes, and I will ask you only once to go away." Tristan said with a slight grin, his eyes still closed.

"No, you are not." Douma interjected as she punched him in the side. "We were just coming to look for you." She continued, standing up as his arm loosened and brushing the dirt from her knees.

Galahad smiled slightly as she walked ahead of them, allowing Tristan just enough time to rise and tag along before following after her. "That was rather pathetic." He said as the two boys walked along beside one another.

"Most lover's quarrels are." Tristan said, pushing a small piece of hair out of his eye.

"Oh very funny." Galahad said, a small grimace on his face.

"You look as though you think so." Tristan said shortly, "But don't worry, I understand that Lancelot has several girls he might be willing to send your way, unless of course, you would rather have a boy."

"That is it!" Galahad called as he ran at Tristan. "I am going to kill you!"

"You can not kill what you can not catch." Tristan called back, running toward the village just fast enough to keep out of Galahad's reach. "We will see you later then." He said, pausing for only a moment before passing Douma.

She watched them running and smiled faintly. "Of course."

"So glad you could join us." Bohrs said as the two boys ran to the line of their peers in the village commons. "And we had thought that you and Galahad had tried to go home."

"Why on Earth would I want to go anywhere with him?" Galahad asked, attempting to look as though he wasn't out of breath.

"Because I get all the girls." Lancelot said with a vaguely devilish grin.

"That is what you think." Range replied, smirking back. He turned back to the front as a Roman walked past his place in the line. He was tall and had dark hair and, according to some, could swoon as many girls as Lancelot.

"Well, most of them anyway." Lancelot amended, laughing slightly.

"It would do you all well." A voice said quietly from in front of them. "To pay attention."

"Our apologies Arthur." Lancelot answered quickly.

"Oh come now Lancelot, kiss him already!" Range said with a large grin to a roar of laughter that was silenced in seconds by Arthur.

Tristan glanced over at Douma as she appeared from the edge of town, standing near her father and watching as the roman walked along in front of them. He paused for a moment at the rather unhappy look on her face. "You really believe she would love you Galahad?" He asked.

"Of course. She speaks to you does she not?" He answered quietly as the Roman reached the end of the line and walked in front of them. "You all seem to be doing better than we had hoped."

"What an honor." Dagonet said with a sarcastic grin.

"We have decided, given your current abilities, that you will be given your first assignment to begin in three days."

"Lancelot!" Bohrs called from his seat when he had come near enough to hear.

"Bohrs, here to get drunk again?" he asked, sitting across from him.

"Until I can't piss straight." Bohrs said as one of the bar maids brought him another mug and he flashed her a lopsided smile.

"Again." Range added. "And again tomorrow, and all the nights after we return." He laughed as he spoke, the woman that had been speaking to the man next to him grinning at him before turning her attention back to the older man.

"So, who is here tonight?" Lancelot asked, looking around at the men and women sitting around at the tables near by.

"The usual people." Range said, "No one you have not yet tried to seduce."

"What can I say," Lancelot said with a shrug and a grin, "It is my only weakness."

"Excepting that pitiful left handed thrust you have a habit of trying to kill people with." Douma said, placing a mug in front of him. "As well as your overly large ego."

"Ouch." Range said, clinking mugs with Bohrs and laughing as Lancelot grabbed Douma by the apron.

"Now when are you going to stop leading poor Tristan and Galahad on and come with me?" He asked, making sure she couldn't pull away.

"The day you grow up Lancelot." She replied with a grin, jerking away to lose his hand from her.

"That could take quite a long time." Range retorted. "It may never truly happen."

"Exactly." She responded, walking away from them and leaving the other men to laugh at the slightly annoyed look on Lancelot's face.

"Douma…" Galahad said as he walked up to her. "I was wondering…"

"I am working Galahad." She said politely as she placed several mugs onto her tray, "Your friends are making sure of that. We can talk later, alright?" She added at the disheartened look he was giving the table beside her.

He blinked and then nodded, "Yes, of course… can, can I help you at all?"

"No thank you, I am fine." She said before walking toward a small group of tables.

"Alright." Galahad said dejectedly, walking to the table occupied by thirteen other knights.

"Now you see, this is why it is better not to fall in love." Lancelot said, pointing at Galahad as he sat down, "You always end up hurting more then you think you will."

"Not to mention you walk around in a daze looking like a poor lost dog." Range said, the woman beside him looking over at him again as he spoke.

"Thank you for the concern." Galahad said sarcastically as he watched her clearing several tables off.

"Do not fret little Galahad." Bohrs said, placing a large hand on the smaller boy's head and mussing his hair. "I do not have a girl yet either."

"Well, Bohrs, that makes me feel a lot better." Galahad said dryly to roars from the rest of the table.

"Catch." Tristan said, tossing a piece of the fruit he was eating at Douma as he walked toward a table.

She turned and almost caught it. "Give someone more warning than that." She said, picking it up and brushing it off.

"That is a pretty necklace." He said, motioning to the silver piece hanging from around her neck.

"Father made it for me, and no, you can not see it." She said, picking up a chair and setting upright at the table she stood next to.

"Why is that?" He asked, furrowing his brow.

"Because when you 'see' things, they disappear." She said with a slight smile as she took a bite of the fruit he had given her.

"Only when they are of value." He retorted with a grin. "Or if they shine." It was the truth, for the most part.

"What do you want Tristan?" She asked. "I have to work." She wiped her hands on the apron around her waist and turned to look at him, placing her hands on her hips.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk." He said clearly, "After all, I might die tomorrow and I do not want to spend the last night I am guaranteed around Bohrs, he smells."

She grinned, "I am working Tristan." She picked up a tray. "Besides, I can not leave until everyone has gone home."

"Well, then I will follow you around and give you no peace until you agree to walk with me." He said, making a point not to stare at her by watching a dog finishing the bones from someone's evening meal.

"I can not go with you," she repeated, placing a mug onto her tray and allowing a pair of children to pass before moving to another empty table.

"But you can take the time to talk to Galahad?" He asked, taking a bite of the fruit he had just cut with the small, white handled knife he carried. Even though he knew she was aware he was teasing her he hoped it would work anyway.

"To tell him I will speak with him later? Yes." she replied, walking toward an empty table to pick up the mugs and dishes.

"Then you can at least tell me you will walk with me later, even if it is a lie." He said, picking the mugs up for her.

She smiled at him, "Fine, if you will leave me alone now then I will walk with you later." She retorted as one of the knights called her name in a feeble attempt to get her attention.

"Alright." He nodded his head and walked away.

_'Just tell her now.'_ The voice said quietly in the back of Tristan's mind as he watched her clearing tables and fending Lancelot off from his seat at the corner table. She was tall for a woman, he had decided, almost five and a half feet. _'She does not hate you, there is no reason to think that she would simply turn you away if you told her. After all, she has proven not only to be kind but extremely forgiving. You stole her horse…'_

"Tristan." Galahad said heatedly as he walked toward the table, the stager in his steps giving away his over intoxication.

_'Not now Galahad.'_ "Go away." He said, taking a sip of the drink he had ordered.

"Do not tell me what to do." Galahad said shortly, "I can decide for myself what to do."

"Congratulations." Tristan said dryly. "Now how about you decide to go away?" He took another sip from his glass, looking at the table where the other knights sat.

"I will say this only once." Galahad said in as close to a commanding voice as he could muster. "I want you to stay away from…"

"No." He responded before Galahad could finish his statement, "You have no right to try and claim her like she is some kind of prize and I will not sit here and listen to you talk about her like she is merely an object and not a person." He spoke in an even tone that made the hairs on the back of Galahad's neck stand up.

"Now you listen…" Galahad began.

"No, you listen to me." Tristan said shortly, turning his attention to Galahad for the first time. "I do not care who you were before you came here but it is obvious that your father never taught you to pick your battles, here you are the lowest, the smallest, and the least skilled. Before you decide to make threats I suggest you make sure you can back them up." He said in the same monotone he knew made most men turn tail and run. Galahad tried to hold the gaze he was being given. "I also suggest you, in no circumstances, attempt to stare me down like you are doing now."

He tried to stare again but found himself blinking and turning away. "This is not yet finished Tristan." Galahad said as he started off toward the town.

"Wow." Bohrs said as he and Range walked to the table Tristan was occupying. "I suppose even little Galahad will stand up to someone when you get enough ale in him."

Range grinned, "Yes, but our dear friend Tristan here is more frightening than most men, am I right?" He asked, clapping Tristan on the back.

"Only when I am drunk and people are touching me." He said with a slight grin as he took another sip from his mug. Range pulled his hand back and folded his arms across his chest to a bellow of laughter from Bohrs.

"Now that is the strange little bird lover we picked up in Sarmatia!" Bohrs said between laughs. "You never fail to scare the living daylights out of someone."

"That was why they chose me Bohrs." Tristan said, setting the mug down on the table he was leaning on, "It was not merely my good looks, that is why Range is here."

Bohrs laughed again as Range grinned, "You do have me there." He said, glancing at the woman who had been sitting beside him earlier as she went past. "If you will excuse me my fine gentlemen friends, I have business to which I must attend." As he spoke he gave them a mock bow and followed after the dress the woman wore.

"I can not wait for the day he stops doing that." Bohrs said as he watched him go, "who knows when that will be though eh?"

"The day you stop drinking is the day he stops chasing women Bohrs, you know that." Tristan replied, taking another sip of his drink.

"Well then, I suppose I better stop drinking soon then eh?" He looked at Tristan for only a moment before he burst into laughter. "I will see you bright and early the day after tomorrow then." Bohrs said, leaving the glass he had brought with him on the table beside Tristan's.

"The day after tomorrow." Tristan replied with a nod as he searched the area for Douma again.

"Where are we walking tonight?" A voice said from behind him as he turned to see her hanging her apron on the hook that jutted out from the wall of the building.

"It is your turn to decide." He answered, smiling as he stood and waited for her to decide.

She took something out of the pocket of the apron and started toward the door, "Why don't we walk in the woods tonight?" She said, not waiting for an answer before she started to walk.

He waited a moment for her to leave first and had the sudden urge to stay in the building. Something told him he shouldn't go, that they should stay somewhere small. "It is your choice." He said, mostly reassuring himself. He had the strange feeling that would be the last time he saw her.

"Douma." Tristan said as they walked along under the trees, "Would you miss me if I died? Tell me the truth." He added, "I will know if you are lying."

She stopped and turned to look at him, "Certainly I would… Why would you have to ask?" She looked worriedly at him.

His heart sank as the joke had the opposite effect he had wished. _'Stupid'_ "No reason, I was simply thinking again." He said, walking once more and staring at the trees that stretched out in front of him.

She smiled slightly, "They say those that become lost in thought only do so because it is unfamiliar to them."

He laughed, "Well that explains it rather nicely does it not?"

She smiled and looked at him for a moment. "Tristan."

He stopped and looked at her, the smile on his face fading as he saw her more serious expression. "Is something the matter?" He asked seriously, walking toward her as if afraid she might try to run.

"This is for you," she said, holding out the thing she had taken from the pocket of the apron.

He took it. It was a strip of rawhide with a small hawk's feather, probably from the breast of the bird, attached by a large drop of silver. The rawhide had several different patterns of blue and white beads on it. "It is beautiful…" He said slowly, looking at it in awe. "Did your father make this?" he asked, holding the beads in his hand.

"I did." She said quietly. "The beads are arranged in a pattern that is meant to protect the wearer." She added.

"You speak as though you will not have another chance to explain." He said with a small grin, "I was joking when I asked…" He paused when he saw the look on her face, "What is wrong?"

"My father has forbidden me seeing you and your fellows off, he says it is not appropriate, that I should be doing the housework instead." She stared at the ground beside her, "He is right of course, he is my father after all. I wished to say goodbye, no matter the consequences from him."

"He does not like me." He said shortly, studying her face as she spoke and freezing in his steps as he saw a tear falling down her cheek.

"No, he simply, has other plans for his daughter, I suppose." She stopped as he reached out and wiped the tear from her face. "He has every right to tell me not to go, but I still wish to."

"Then come." Tristan said, "If he becomes angry then tell him I forced you to go." He sat down on a tall stump and hoped she would smile.

She did, "No, I have things to do tomorrow in the castle, I will be gone all day. That is why I gave you that tonight." She said looking at him, the tears gone from her eyes.

He smiled back at her, "I will wear it the day after tomorrow, when we leave."

"Thank you." She said seriously, "I appreciate it." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug.

He froze for a moment when he felt a tear hit his neck and slide down onto his shoulder. He blinked at the strange feeling almost akin to pain he felt in his heart. _'Do not do it.'_ The voice warned as he had the urge to pull her closer, to keep her next to him until the next morning when she had to leave. "I know." He said quietly, hugging her reassuringly. _'You can not do it.'_ The voice continued, _'You should not even think of such things before you tell her…'_

"Douma?" Galahad's voice called through the trees.

She lifted her head and pulled away from him, he let her go. "I should say goodbye to Galahad as well." She said, wiping her face clear of any evidence she was crying.

"If you do not, I fear he will complain until we return and see you again." He said with a slight smile.

She smiled as well, although it looked forced, taking a deep breath before she started away. When she was several yards away she paused and turned back to him, "Farewell, and goodnight."

He nodded to her and she turned and continued away, walking toward Galahad's calls. He watched her until he couldn't see her anymore, his eyes reluctant to leave the place she had been.

He looked away and stared out at the trees in front of him, looking down when he heard something hit the leaves beneath his feet. He blinked at the blurred colors he saw and reached up to his face, touching it with his fingertips. He looked at his fingers when he had pulled them away and they sparkled back at him, he was crying.


	3. Chapter 3

Before you begin to read this I wish to clarify some things, first, the not recognizing at the beginning of chapter 2 was a flash back, second my disk corrupted the day I went to upload and I couldn't find the time to retype this until now, third, Range is Dagonet's older brother thus why he is here, and fourth, if you have any questions just reply and I'll address them in the last chapter. Thank you all soooooooo much for reading and being patient with me, I really appreciate it.

Before You Go…

Chapter 3

Tristan wondered into the village as the sun started coming up, the fog still swirling thickly around the wooden buildings. He stared at the house that was Douma's, watching the smoke rising from the chimney. He could almost see her as she had walked away, her arms wrapped around her and the tears beginning to stream down her face again.

He had spent the entire night walking through the woods and crying over things he didn't know had upset him and had fallen asleep somewhere around noon. It had taken him nearly an hour to find the village again. He blinked as he watched a carriage roll up to the house that had been erected for Arthur, a woman stepping out and walking to the door where she was promptly let in.

He gave it little thought and walked to the tree beside Douma's home, making sure her father wasn't nearby before he sat at it's base, staring up at her window. 'You should have told her.' He heard in his ear.

"I could not, she was too upset…" He tried to reason with himself, trying desperately to believe it.

'She returns your affections, why else would she have been so upset about not being able to wish you farewell?' The voice continued.

"She…" He couldn't find an excuse for himself. "You are right." He told the voice, "The very next time I see her, I'll take her in my arms and I will not release her until I have told her…"

'And you will not make excuses as to why you can not?'

"I swear it." He added quietly, still staring up at the window as he felt himself grow happier. "I swear it…" He stood again and started toward the stables, watching the door to the Knight's lodgings open as Range walked out.

He raised his massive arms over his head and stretched his entire body in one simple motion with an arch of the back. After a moment he noticed the other man walking down the street and grinned, "Tristan!" He called as he walked toward him, the smile he wore at all times affixed to his face again. "We thought we had lost you."

"I was asleep." Tristan said in the monotone he used with everyone in the village excepting Douma.

"Is that all?" Range asked with a grin as he walked beside him in the general direction of the stables. "And to think I was under the impression you were giving Douma a goodbye." He shrugged. "At the least, that is what Galahad thought when he could not find her yesterday."

"Watch your tongue or it will be removed." Tristan added calmly as they turned a corner. "She was in the castle."

"I meant nothing by it friend." He said, lacing his fingers behind his head as he walked, attracting the attention of several milkmaids walking past.

"Do you think I care what you meant?" He asked, looking straight ahead and ignoring the fact that the man was at least half a foot taller then himself.

"Yes." He said shortly. "I believe you care more then you let on, weather it is about your fellow knights or a certain blacksmith's daughter." He added with a grin.

"RANGE!" A voice from behind them called. Range turned around in time to see Dagonet before he was tackled and left lying on the ground trying to wrestle the younger man off as Lancelot took his place beside Tristan. "So, where have you been this past day?" He asked with a grin.

"Asleep." He repeated his earlier answer.

"Oh, alright." He said, forcing the grin away, "Now I understand that Galahad is slightly annoyed with the fact that he could find neither you nor Douma all day yesterday and he may wish to speak with y…"

"She is in the castle with a cousin getting supplies and orders for her father." He said shortly. "I have not seen her since she told me goodbye the night before last."

"Oh." He said, sincerely surprised by this fact. "You may wish to tell him that before he gets a' hold of some more ale." He added with a grin.

"It is none of his concern anyway." Tristan said, "He follows her like a lost dog seeking food and calls it love." He had not allowed his eyes to leave the path ahead of him and watched as the stables loomed into view out of the fog over the hill they were climbing. He was almost surprised at the fact that he was saying this, he had thought it for a very long time but had never mentioned it.

"It is the only love he knows." Lancelot replied, watching the other man as he walked, "Douma was, for some time, the only person in the village willing to speak to him. He believes she loves him back."

"Lancelot!" Range called, Dagonet slung across his shoulders as he walked up the hill, the smaller of the two brothers struggling in a futile attempt to get out of his grip. "What did I tell you about sending my brother to do your dirty work?"

"He is wrong." Tristan retorted as he continued to walk, leaving Lancelot to answer the calls from behind him.

He stroked the chest of the falcon he had caught the year before and smoothed his feathers down. "We are to do our job now." He said simply to the bird, "Make sure you tell me if you see anything."

He turned his horse as he heard footsteps and saw Arthur walking beside the woman that had come in the carriage that morning. She wore a black dress with a red panel on the front. The neck cut low around her bust and a black shawl around her head, casting a shadow over her face and blocking her features.

"Would you look at that…" Range said, leaning to one side on his horse to get a better look at the woman as she held the shawl tight around her head.

"Watch yourself." Dagonet said, grinning, "They might not like the idea of you staring at the Roman's wife when we reach his house."

"Do not worry little brother, I will do my looking before we reach the roman's house."

"And when they kill you?" Bors asked as he pulled his horse into check beside Range's white horse.

"Then Dagonet can finally have this ring of mine he's had his eye on for so long." He held up his hand and showed him a silver ring around his thumb.

Tristan watched her for a moment, 'I know you…' The voice in his mind said quietly.

"Now Tristan…" Range said, slapping him on the back, the bird flapping its wings and squawking, "It is not a good idea to be staring at a woman when you have one of your own already."

He glanced back at Galahad as he grimaced at the comment. "I am not staring, I am merely making sure I know who I am to be guarding."

"Of course you are." Galahad said angrily as he spurred his horse past the two older men.

He closed his eyes as they rode, allowing his mind to wash over with anything besides the trail before them. He remembered a song and felt himself begin to sing, "Land of bear and land of eagle, land that gave us birth and blessing, land that called us ever homewards, we will go home across the mountains…" He could hear himself grow louder but couldn't seem to stop it. "We will go home, we will go home, we will go home across the mountains, we will go home singing our song," He hummed a few bars, hoping the words would come back to him, "Hear our singing, hear our longing, we will go home across the mountains, we will go home, we will go home, we will go home across the mountains…"

"I know that song." Range's voice said in his ear as he pulled up beside him, "The barmaids sing it…" He looked at Tristan for confirmation of his theory.

"The women of that village have sung it for every generation of knights since the first." He said in the same monotone. "It was written by one of the first knights and he taught it to his wife before he died and she to their daughter, and her to hers." He answered. "Douma sang it once in the tavern."

"Ah, no wonder you know so much about it." He said with a grin.

"My mother used to sing it to me when I was a baby." He retorted.

"Oh…" For the first time since they had met in Sarmatia Tristan saw Range speechless. They rode for several minutes until Range suddenly stopped his horse. "Did you hear that?" He asked staring into the trees to the left.

"No." Tristan replied as simply as he could.

Range dismounted and disappeared into the trees for a few moments, vanishing with great ease for someone of his size. Tristan was always amazed by his innate ability to disappear into a group of trees with little to no thought regarding it.

As he reappeared Tristan raised an eyebrow, "Did you see anything?"

"No." he said, looking back over his shoulder at the trees. "I could have sworn…" He shrugged, "No use in waiting around here, whatever it is, it left."

He climbed back onto his horse and turned to his companion, "Now, how does that song go?"


	4. Chapter 4

Before You Go…

Chapter 4

" 'ey, little brother." Range said quietly.

"I'm not your brother." Tristan corrected him.

"I call Lancelot 'little brother' and he's two years my elder, and also not my brother." Range said simply, grinning widely as he looked back at the other scout. "What will you do when we return to the village?"

"Eat and sleep." Tristan replied dryly. Since they had left the main group that morning Range had not stopped trying to bait him into confessing his feelings for Douma, and he had done nothing but fight it.

Range laughed, the sound echoing in the dense forest and making the giant of a man sound even bigger, "Well of course!" He grinned widely and pulled his horse back to ride next to his companion, the stark white of the creature contrasting with the mottled grey color of Tristan's horse. "I was hoping for a more specific answer mind you."

"You won't get one." Tristan replied, staring at the ground ahead of them that was still muddy from the last nights rain.

Range looked at him and sighed, pushing some of his shoulder length black hair out of his face, several wavy chunks falling defiantly back in front of his eyes. "When Dagonet and I were still in Sarmatia, we had three younger brothers and an older sister. Dram was always the favorite and the middle child of course. Our youngest and blondest brother was killed by a horse at the age of nine, just before we left."

"And?" Tristan asked, not understanding the relevance of this story. He paused as he noticed Range's smile was gone.

"The last thing I told him was that he was the worst brother I had ever known. All because he had broken my carving of a horse." Tristan stared at the man as he looked straight ahead. "If you died, right now, would you be happy with how you left Douma?"

Tristan stared at the back of his head as his horse sped up, leaving him very much alone to contemplate his answer. He understood now.

"Did you hear that?" Range asked suddenly, looking into the trees.

Tristan, pulled from his thoughts, looked around and shook his head, "I heard nothing."

"Head back to the group, tell them that the path is clear until the river." He continued to look around and stare into the trees. "We're only a few hours from the house now."

Tristan nodded and turned his horse, glancing back when he heard Range speak a single word, "Inish…"

He rode calmly back toward the travelers, noticing at least seven, maybe eight men he had never spoken to. "Damn waist of time." He muttered, watching as some of the younger knights, no more then sixten years old, joked and laughed as they went. "They're never going to make it."

"Tristan." Arthur called as he came closer. "What did you see?" Tristan turned his gaze from the youngest knights to their leader.

"Nothing, Range decided to scout farther, he sent me back here. Said something about Inish…"

"Woads!" Dagonet said loudly spurring his horse forward and racing down the road past Tristan who turned and followed as Arthur sent Bors, Gawain, Athom, and Muay along behind.

He pulled the reigns of his horse and it skidded to a stop as they came onto a large group of woads, at least six trying desperately to get inside the reach of Range's ax.

" 'bout time you showed up." He said, swinging his massive weapon with one arm and gashing several of the attackers across the chest.

"Sorry we're late." Dagonet replied, jumping off his horse and landing in the midst of several of the men, drawing his long broadsword.

"First three days out on an assignment and we get attacked." Gawain said as he pulled a smaller ax from his saddle, "This is my kind of work." He threw it and it stuck squarely in one man's back.

Tristan sat on his horse several yards back and stared down his arrow at Dagonet and Range who now stood nearly back to back fighting off enemies.

"Look out!" One of the younger knights called as an arrow stuck in his back, the swordsman he had been warning them of jumping down and nearly landing on Tristan. He spun the arrow tip upwards and let the arrow fly, listening to the resounding thud as the tip lodged in the man's ribs. He spurred his horse on and knocked another arrow, firing over Bors shoulder and killing the man he had been advancing on with his knives.

Range made a sound that could almost be called a growl before a great cry erupted from his throat, his ax hand punching the air for a moment as his current attackers fell to the ground dead, "Rush!"

"Rush!" The other knights called back, each fighting more fiercely.

From where he now stood Tristan had taken down six men and had another in his sights before he heard the call, responding and finding a man almost on top of him.

He threw the man back with an arrow to the shoulder and dismounted, removing the long, curved sword from it's sheath on his back.

The five older knights stared at the bodies of the woads and shook their heads when they saw the three younger knights among them. One was dead and the other, Athom, was missing an eye and two fingers.

Range lifted him up over his shoulder with one arm and took the reigns of his horse in the other. "I've got him, Dagonet, put the body in a blanket and lay it across the back of my horse."

Dagonet did as he was told and followed along behind him on his own horse, staring at Athom. "He's only fourteen." Gawain said quietly to Bors who nodded and stared at him.

"Arthur!" Range called loudly as he saw the top of the carriage over the hill in front of them.

Arthur's horse appeared at the crest of the hill just before the team that led the wagon. "What's happened?" He asked as he stopped his horse beside Range who let Athom's feet touch the ground and supported him with his arm.

"He's lost an eye." He said shortly, allowing Dagonet to take reigns from his hand. "His finger's stopped bleeding but his face won't."

"Get him into the wagon." Arthur said quickly as the other young knights stared in shock and horror at the boys face. "Hurry!"

"Dagonet, put the body on one of the pack horses." Range said shortly as he walked up the hill, the unconscious boy over one shoulder again. He paused for a moment before he opened the cloth that led to the inside of the wagon. "Pardon me…." He trailed off for a moment as he stood in the doorway.

Bors ran a hand over the wound running from his forehead to the crest of his skull, the blood still running down his neck as he frowned at it. "I'm gonna have to shave my head to fix this." He muttered quietly, grumbling as he slipped his knives into their sheaths on the front of his armor.

Tristan pulled his horse into check and glanced at the man as he let the cloth fall quickly, covering whatever had surprised him. "Let's get moving." Arthur said, "We can not stay still now."

The wagon jerked quickly ahead and they were off again.

"You haven't told him?"

Tristan looked up and stared at the small square cut into the front of the wagon for ventilation, the rain thudding steadily on the roof. There was a quiet moan he assumed came from Athom and an answer. "No." There was something very familiar about the voice but he couldn't quite place it. "No one but my father knows."

"You should have told him." Range responded in a voice Tristan could only call soothing. "He would much rather know and loose you then never know at all."

"I would but…" She paused and he waited for a conclusion, "I can't look at him without crying anymore…"

Tristan looked at the fire near the center of the clearing they had found, the rain steaming as it hit the flames. He stood and walked out of the shelter of the wagon's roof and sat down in front on one of the logs they had moved to serve as a seat. His feet rested a few inches from the fire and were warm in no time.

He closed his eyes, his cloak drawn tight around him to keep him as dry as possible even though he was already soaked to the bone.

"Well…" She said, smiling at him, "I believe I will get very old, and eventually die." She giggled as she finished.

He laughed, "That is not what I meant." he looked over at her as she stared up at the sky and he smiled.

"In that case, I suggest you give me your answer." She said, "Then I can correctly give you mine."

He blinked and stood up, walking toward the river and she followed. "I am not going to grow old." He said, leaning against a tree. "I am going to marry, maybe have a son, but I will inevitably die in battle, just like my father before me and his father before him." He said quietly, watching the water.

"If you are so serious all of the time, you'll be an old man at a very young age." She smiled and pushed some of the hair out of her face, "I always thought you would be…"

He opened his eyes and pushed the muzzle of the horse that had been nibbling his hair away from him. He blinked at the sudden harsh white of the area around him. During the night the rain had turned to snow and they were now covered in fine white powder.

He heard a laugh and looked over in time to see Range putting his wet clothes into the saddlebags on his horse. "You seem content to sleep anywhere."

"So what if I do?" He responded, sitting up and shaking his head.

"It is not healthy to sleep so much." He responded, "You should be collecting fire wood or seeing if there is any way to get around these drifts." He motioned to several large snow drifts in the way of the wagon, "That is our job if I recall correctly." He took a shirt out of the bag he was digging in.

"Me' lady." Gawain said with a nod as he woke and saw the woman from the wagon walking past. "You should not be out of the wagon without a knight."

She stared at him from under the shawl, nodding slightly as she went across the camp and into the wagon, glancing at the few knights that were awake and moving.

Range, his shirt still held in his hand, nodded to her as she glanced his way. "You shouldn't go alone into the forest me' lady." He said mockingly to Gawain who scowled at him.

"How is Athom?" Arthur asked as he walked into the small area where the horses stood.

"He's asleep." Range said, pulling on his shirt and towering several inches over the other man. "He will never see from his left eye again I am sorry to say, and we must keep his fingers covered so they do not bleed. With some rest he should be better." He looked over at Tristan as he finished, "Maybe Tristan can teach him to sleep as soundly as he does."

Tristan managed to stand and shake himself off as Range laughed, the sound echoing through the trees like an animal's call. "Funny." He said, turning and walking toward the horses.

"We need to get moving." Arthur said curtly.

"We are due at the roman's house in one week." Lancelot added, throwing his saddle over the back of his horse.

"It may take twice that with the snows on the passes and the wagon." Range said looking to Arthur. "We could take her on horse back…"

"Too dangerous." Lancelot and Arthur chimed, the leader and knight looking at each other in confusion.

"Lancelot if you were any more like our great leader I might be forced to hurt you." Range said with a grin as he lifted his own saddle, "Now why don't you go and grovel." He motioned the older knight away with a wave of the hand.

"One of these days my friend, we will be allowed to fight." Lancelot replied.

"And one of these days we will bare witness to your great ego bursting and I will have no choice but to laugh." He retorted, tightening the saddle strap. The rest of the knights laughed as they went about their morning business, oblivious to the smoke that Tristan could smell on his hawk when it returned from it's hunt.


	5. Chapter 5

Before You Go…

Chapter 5

"How would I die?" Tristan repeated Range's question.

"Exactly." The older man said, plowing as much of a path as he could with the shield he was forced to use as a shovel.

"What does it matter?" He asked as eh followed behind, widening the path by crushing the sides down.

"It matter much more then you would think." Range replied, "If I die on a mission I refuse to just lay down and accept it." He paused as he pushed another large chunk of snow out of his way. "I will die at the village or at home, no where else is even in the question. If you let them burry me in that sad little graveyard I will haunt you to the grave." He added, pointing to Tristan as he looked back at him. "I want to be burned and sent on an eastern wind back to Sarmatia so I can watch over it for centuries to come." He smiled at the thought. "Do you understand?"

Tristan nodded and thought for a long while. "I will die fighting an enemy that is stronger then I am." He finally responded, "I will not die as a hazard of battle, it will be a man to man fight." He said slowly, pushing the sides of the path down.

"Well in that case… We should not expect to burry you anytime soon then?" He laughed loudly and pushed ahead again, Tristan shaking his head and following along.

Tristan watched the path in front of them as the horses lopped easily along the trail, Range having dug it out in front when they were scouting ahead that morning. He saw the tracks that he and range had made no less then an hour before as they vanished beneath the newly formed tracks of the youngest knights, placed in the middle to keep them from dieing in the event of a surprise attack.

"Athom?" Range said cautiously, touching the young man on the shoulder.

The much smaller boy turned his head and stared at the man with one glassy eye, the other covered with a cloth. For nearly three hours Athom had not moved his eye from the back of his horses head, walking it slowly along without any attention to where he was going. "Yes?" He said quietly.

"Arthur." Range said loudly, pulling his horse to a stop. "Arthur, we need to stop."

Athom looked at the two and shook his head slowly, "No, I am fine… my eye… hurts some is all…" He stared at them with a blank face, "I am fine, truly…"

"We need to stop." Range reiterated. "He can't keep going like this."

"I am fine…" Athom said, sitting upright and slipping off his saddle onto the ground.

Range jumped down from his own horse and lifted the smaller man, taking him to the wagon as he repeated his claim that he was fine. "Arthur… If we put her on Athom's horse, I can take four or five and have her there and be back in a few days time. We have no chance of making it with both the wagon and Athom…"

"Go." Arthur said, "You are in charge Range, Torm, Gallic, Dagonet, Tristan, Ware, Bors, go with him." He looked at the other knights, "You will remain with us and continue to protect the wagon as if she was inside, am I understood?" The few young knights and Lancelot nodded.

Range took hold of Athom's horses reigns and walked it over to the wagon again, disappearing inside for a moment before he walked back out, the woman holding her shawl around her right behind. With little effort she threw her leg over the animal and was waiting for the party to move.

"Move out." Range said as Arthur went into the wagon to tend to Athom. "Tristan." Range said as he came up to the other knight. "Tristan, do not let her out of your sight, no matter what happens or what you see, do you understand?"

He stared at the older man and nodded, his braids falling in front of his face. "Alright."

They raced at a full gallop off along the path, the knights forming a circle around the woman as they rode, the black of her dress disappearing into the black of the horse.

"Tristan." Range said as they stopped for the first time since they had left the main group. "Stand watch tonight, I have to go ahead and clear the road." He smiled and took his ax out, ridding on down the path as the others pitched their makeshift camp.

"Where are we?" Torm asked, looking around the forest, "All of this looks the same to me, there are no forests in Sarmatia to teach us to recognize trees." He added as the woman glanced at him.

"We will arrive at the house tomorrow." Tristan said shortly, whistling as he finished and turning away from the group as his hawk landed on his arm. He grimaced at the thing in it's claws.

"Here." Gallic said as he handed a small piece of bread to the woman who took it with a nod. Tristan was amazed by the fact that she had managed to keep the shawl on even when they were galloping down the path.

"What do we eat?" Torm asked, looking at the bread.

"We starve." Ware responded, taking the saddle from his horse and throwing it down on the ground. "She's the only one with any food on this little trip." He said gruffly as he walked to where he had placed his blanket. "Now stop complaining and go to sleep." He lay down and rolled onto his side.

The opposite side of his torso was covered in a row of metal spikes that varied in size from large on his wrist to small at the elbow to large again at the shoulder. He looked rather odd with his flat armor on his other arm but they both served a purpose. If he was attacked his right arm could be used as a shield and his left as a weapon. Tristan had never understood the idea until Range had explained it, adding that he looked rather like a walking target with all the polished metal .

Tristan tucked the woad knife that his hawk had brought him away in his saddle bag and let the bird fly, watching the woman set her untouched piece of bread on the blankets that Torm had set out. 'I want to sleep.' He thought, 'I want to dream, get away from this miserable snow.' He looked around and frowned at the foot of white powder that had been building up since that morning. 'We have been riding for two days and it only now starts to snow again.'

He grumbled to himself and pulled a small chunk of wood from his pocket, most of it shaped like a bird while one wing was still rather square. He glanced over and saw Torm chewing on the piece of bread the woman had placed on his blankets.

"That is very pretty." The woman said in her familiar yet implacable whisper. She sat carefully next to him and held the shawl tightly around her head, her face impossible to see even with the starlight from above them.

"You should sleep, we have another day or more of ridding and we will not stop again."

"I am not used to sleeping when it grows dark, I usually have things to do at night." She said, her voice nagging at his mind.

"Do I know you?" He asked quietly, "Your voice is familiar."

"I do not believe so." She said, "But I am told by many people they know my voice." She pulled her legs up under her to keep them warm. Even though the tree they were under had sheltered their small seat from the snow and so it was cold bare ground. "Who is that for? Your brother?"

Tristan continued to chip away at the wood and shook his head. "In the village I come from there is a girl I know. I told her once I would make it for her." He said quietly. He could remember the look on Douma's face when he told her he would carve her something.

"Your friend?" She asked, turning her face toward the sleeping knights and the shawl hiding her profile from him.

"I hope her to be my wife eventually." He said, the wing beginning to look like a wing and not a stick.

He could almost here her smile as she looked at him. "What does she look like?"

"She has red-brown hair and haunting green eyes." He said, his hands pausing in their work as he remembered her face. "She has a sun tattoo on her right shoulder."

The woman turned away from him again. "She sounds beautiful." He detected a hint of sadness in her voice.

"You miss someone?" He asked, not quite sure as to why he was telling her all of this.

"Yes." She nodded. "My father struck a deal with a roman so he and his family could go free from his service. He said he would give him his daughter. That very year I met a man and fell in love, but I knew I could never tell him, I belonged to the roman." She said, her head tilting down. He didn't answer her when she finished speaking. He could hear her crying and simply let her, chipping away at the wood with his small carving knife.

"Good night." She said, standing up and starting toward the blankets they had set out for her. "Whoever this girl that you love is, she is very lucky to have someone like you to wait for."

He nodded to her, "Sleep well." He looked back to the wooden animal and finished shaping the wing, working in the smaller feather details.

The others stirred slowly that morning, Tristan having to kick several of them to wake them.

"We leave now." Gallic said shortly, painfully aware that Range was not yet back. "Range has not yet returned, he is either dead, fighting or still moving, so we follow him. We go as soon as we are able, move quickly." No one argued for Gallic, next to Lancelot, was the oldest among them and more then capable of backing up his orders if the need arose.

"Tristan." Gallic said as he placed his saddle on his horse, "Did Range return at all last night?"

Tristan shook his head, "He never came."

"We move now." Gallic said, making sure that everyone was mounted and ready to go. "We ride fast and hard, I am sorry me' lady but we can spare no time."

The woman nodded, "I understand."

They set out at a run and went as quickly as they could, Tristan hoping that whatever was holding Range up it was not the woads that had accompanied the knife.

"Wait." Tristan said quietly, holding his hand out and frowning at the tracks he saw in the snow. "He came this way but several foot travelers came after him."

"Move." Gallic said, stirring his horse forward. Although he was not the best leader he was one of Range's best friends and was not about to find the man dead.

"Rush!"

The entire group stopped as they heard the call, "Range…" Dagonet said quickly, "Not again." He nudged his horse and it shot forward, the smaller of the two brothers returning the battle cry as he raced around a bend, his sword drawn.

"Follow him!" Gallic called and the other knights drew their weapons and chased him.

"We have to stay back." Tristan said, grabbing hold of the woman's reigns from her hand. "I was told I am not to let you out of my sight and I am not about to allow it now."

The woman looked at him and nodded as he took his bow out and walked his horse to the bend. What he saw made him stop in his tracks. There were woad bosies and Roman soldiers laying everywhere around the lawn of what was once a roman villa and now was a pile of ash. He watched as Range threw several more attackers back with his ax, several soldiers cowering beside him and doing little if anything to help.

"It is a massacre…" Tristan said shortly, replacing the bow on the saddle and jumping down from his horse as the woman peered around the turn and froze. "I can not let this continue…" He said quietly, unsheathing his sword and taking a step toward the battle.

"Tristan!"

He froze at the sound of his name and turned his head slowly, he knew that voice…


	6. Chapter 6

Before You Go…

Chapter 6

"Tristan!"

He froze at the sound of his name and turned his head slowly, he knew that voice all too well. He turned to stare in shock at the face of the woman as she let the shawl fall to the ground at her feet. His entire body shook in a mixture of shock and disbelief as he watched tears streaming down the woman's cheeks.

"Please don't go out there!" Douma said loudly, one hand stretched out toward him as if to take hold of his arm and stop him. "Please, I can not watch you die!"

"Douma…" He said, his mind wheeling and trying to comprehend what was going on.

"The woads killed the roman I was promised to, I can go home and marry whomever I wish!" She was crying profusely, something he had only seen her do once before. Her entire body shook as she sobbed in fear and anger. "I will not allow you to go out there!"

"Douma…" He reached out and pulled her against him as she sobbed, trying to keep himself from doing the same thing. "I…"

"I am sorry." She said between sobs, "My father said he would rather see his shop burned to the ground then let me go back on the deal with the roman… I could not tell you…."

"Shhh…" He said, kissing the top of her head, "I understand…"

"I do not want anyone to die, but I… please do not go out there!" She said, her face buried in his shoulder and her arms wrapped around him. "I do not want anyone else to die because of me!"

Range swung his ax again and looked down the path. Having expected some sort of arrow fire fro Tristan he paused for a moment as he saw Douma holding him and him holding her. "I suppose it does not matter now little brother." He said quietly, glancing over and seeing Dagonet surrounded. "Dag!" He called, racing over as quickly as he could, felling several woads in the way.

"Archers!" Gallic called, his dagger ringing as it deflected a woad hatchet and he drove his sword into the man, turning the body so that it blocked the arrows fired at him. "In the trees!" He kicked the body off his sword and spun in time to stab a man in the neck with the dagger while parrying with the sword.

Ware threw himself roughly at one of the woads, the spikes on his shoulder digging holes into the man he was against and knocking him back at the same time, his other arm coming back to shield himself from the sword of the man behind him. "Die." He said shortly, spinning around and nearly slicing the man in half with his long sword.

"Torm!" He called, the smaller boy ducking and allowing him to throw a knife into a man coming from behind him. "Look out for that." Torm nodded and stabbed a woad in the eye with one of the roman's short swords he had picked up after loosing his own.

Tristan released Douma and sheathed his sword, turning to his horse and pulling the bow out again, knocking an arrow and staring down the shaft in time to catch a woad as it stabbed for Bors who grunted and continued slashing at anything in the range of his blades.

Tristan pulled an arrow back, striking a man that was coming up behind Dagonet. "Stay behind me." He added, pulling another arrow from his quiver. "And do not scream…"

"Dag!" Range repeated, the smaller brother turned in time to come face to face with his sibling as his entire body went stiff. "You have to watch everything Dag… Never focus too much on one thing…" He stumbled forward into his younger brother and spit a mouthful of blood onto the ground as he rested on his brothers shoulder.

"Range!" Dagonet called, staring down in horror as Range spun around and beheaded a woad, six arrows sticking out of his back as he stumbled forward again, his ax driving into the chest of another woad as he fell.

"NO!" Gallic called, throwing his attacker back with his sword and scrambling toward the brothers while tripping over the dead bodies around them.

"Range!" Dagonet called, bending down as Gallic and Bors both took the offensive and allowed him time to check his brother.

"Here…" Range said with his usual smile, his hand reaching up and dropping something into Dagonet's waiting palm. "Do not loose it…" He said slowly, closing his eyes, "You are only holding it for me remember." He let his head rest on the ground, "I need to rest… Go kill the bastard that did this for me would you?"

Dagonet nodded and took a deep breath, slipping it onto this finger and standing again, his sword moving before his feet.

"Tristan!" Douma said, ducking under a knife as on of the woads came across their hiding place. "Get off!" She said loudly, stabbing back at him with an arrow as he grabbed her.

The woad fell back and lay still as Tristan let and arrow go into his forehead. "Are you alright?" He asked quickly and she nodded, hiding the knife wound in her side with an arm, "I will be fine." She said with a forced smile, knocking another arrow.

"Bors and Gallic…" He said shortly, turning his arrow toward them in time to see Dagonet knock down several of the woads attacking them with a single stroke. He let an arrow loose and struck one of the archers hidden just inside the trees. The others soon falling as Dagonet and Bors reached them.

The knights that were still on their feet surmised the damage. Were had a large gash across his back. Bors' head wound had reopened and blood was streaming down the side of his face as he walked. Dagonet had a cut next to his right eye that was likely to leave a lasting scar. Gallic had been struck in the shoulder with an arrow and his arm hung at his side in an attempt to stop the pain. Torm sported a matching pair of black eyes and a large cut from his jaw to his ear. "We came out the better…" Ware said quietly as Dagonet returned to Range who smiled as they sat him up.

"We have to get the arrows out." Gallic said, reaching for the shaft of the closest one.

Range grabbed his hand and shook his head, "Leave them."

"We can not stop the bleeding if you…" Torm started to explain.

"I know!" Range said irritably, using Dagonet as a brace to push himself up into a standing position. "It does not matter." He walked as best he could to the edge of field of bodies. "We have to get back…" The others followed behind him at a respectful distance, watching as he reached for the arrows one at a time and broke the shafts close to his skin, dropping the feathered tails to the ground.

"Range." Tristan said as he walked out from behind the turn, Douma following behind and holding her side nonchalantly. "We should be going…"

"My thoughts exactly." The man said with his usual grin. "It is just too bad we failed." He smiled at Douma who was staring at him with tears streaming silently down her cheeks. "I told you did I not?"

He walked to his horse and with some difficulty pulled himself up. Although several of the others felt compelled to help him they stayed where they were, nothing they did would be welcomed by the stubborn man anyway. The three younger knights stared at Douma for a moment before comprehension dawned on their faces and they turned away, walking to their own horses that had settled near Range's.

"Tristan…" Douma said quietly as they started toward their own horses. "Tristan, wait… please…"

He turned to look at her and frowned, her face was contorted in pain. "What happened..?" He began.

"I am afraid that I will not be returning with you…" She said, smiling quietly. "It seems that I…" She winced and looked down, the black dress clung to her side where the blood had weighted it down and stuck it to her. She laughed slightly, "I believe my plans for growing old will not go as I would have wished…"

"No…" Tristan said, staring at her as she cried.

"I am sorry…" She said, falling down.

He caught her and held her against him again, "No, you are going to come back with me…"

"I would have married you." She said quietly, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I wanted you to know… I love you as well…" She felt her knees beginning to give out under her. "I am so very sorry…."

"I know…" He said quietly, kissing the top of her head again and pulling her closer to him, "I know… you do not have to say it…" He felt himself shaking uncontrollably as he held her and she leaned against him.

"I am glad I am with you now…" She smiled against his shoulder and felt her knees shake and give out, her weight dropping onto him suddenly. "I will wait for you…" She said with a smile, "With all the fallen knights, I will wait for you."

He felt himself sobbing but didn't understand what was happening to him, his own knees shuddering slightly as he felt hers give to the weight of her body. "I know…" He kept his grip on her as her breathing slowed and finally stopped. "I know…" He repeated again, the burning in his eyes telling him he was crying again, the feeling not a welcome one.

The other knights watched as Tristan walked toward them, his face set as if it were stone and the blood on his shirt frozen to it from the cold of the air around them. They stared in shock at the limp form of Douma in his arms as he laid her gently on the ground and unrolled his blanket, laying it out and placing her on it, rolling it up around her and tying it off.

They watched and turned away as he lifted her and placed her on the back of the horse, making sure to keep her face covered. As he secured the body to the back of the horse she had been riding he paused and took out the bird carving, sliding it into the roll of cloth. "I promised you." He said quietly, getting up onto his own horse and taking hold of her horse's reigns. "I will meet you at the end…" He turned his horse and quietly walked it toward the others, following them silently down the path as Range sat as straight as he could in the lead.

Around the corner ahead of them came the wagon and the other knights, several staring blankly at the broken party as it came quietly toward them, not a single person speaking as they turned and started back toward the village.


	7. Chapter 7

Before You Go…

Chapter 7

Tristan sat silently between two graves, his feet planted and his arms on his knees, a clay pot held in one hand. He watched with squinted eyes as Dagonet walked away with Bors leading him by the arm. To his right was a normal grave, the earth covering it fresh and just filled in. On his left the grave billowed out smoke and large flames leaped out of the pit, a sickening smell filling the air.

Tristan swallowed another gulp of the liquor in the clay pot he was holding, turning his attention to the earth covered grave. "You said you would marry me…" He said quietly staring at the earth. "You made me swear I would not die and for what? You are dead, there is no reason for me to fear the same fate." He took another drink, his stomach churning as he breathed in the smoke through his nose.

He looked at the fire, "He saw you in the wagon, that is why he made sure I did not see in." He blinked as a cloud of the putrid smelling fumes washed over him. "He was trying to keep both of us from facing the truth…" He blinked, "You were the only ones I ever opened up to…and you repay my trust with death…"

He ran his sleeve across his face, wiping away ash and tears as they ran down his cheeks. "Both of you left me…" He stared into the flames, "I told them to burn you like you asked…"

"Tristan!"

He wiped his face again and turned to see Galahad walking toward him, his sleeve pulled over his mouth and nose to block out the smoke. "Tristan, have you seen Douma?" He asked, his eyes watering as he breathed in the fumes.

Tristan blinked and turned to stare at the earth mound on his right, studying the black dirt that had been shaped into a hill and the small black bowl, the flame inside it flickering. "No, not today." He said quietly, taking another sip from the pot.

"If you see her tell her I was looking for…"

"Do you still love her?" He asked, staring at the bowl as the flame flickered again.

"What?" Galahad asked, staring questioningly at him.

"Do you still love her?" He repeated.

"Yes." Galahad responded, stepping back quietly. "What is wrong with..?"

"If you do still love her then forget her, she has gone beyond our reach." He said simply, turning away from the bowl and watching as a pillar of smoke worked its way out of the hole.

"What are you…?" Galahad noticed the pot in his hand and sighed, "Alright then."

"Let us drink." Tristan said as Galahad walked slowly away, unsure of what was happening. "Drink to the great knights of old…" He lifted the pot and poured the liquid into the flames, watching them jump up and burn fiercely for a moment before returning to their normal size. "To the knights of legend…

13 years later

Tristan stood for a moment in front of the small mound that was now covered in grass. The bowl on top of it burned just as it had thirteen years before. "Hello." He said, placing the tips of his fingers on the grass and smiling his half smile. "It has been a while, hasn't it." He let his palm rest on the earth and smiled as he remembered her words, "Until the end then." He reached up and pulled a worn leather thong with several different patterns of blue and white beads and a hawks feather from around his neck.

"I brought it, so you could help it work." He placed it beneath the bowl, spread as if it were hanging around a persons neck. "This might be the end…" He smiled as he flattened his palm on top of the beads, "Watch over me…"

"Tristan!" Gawain said loudly, pulling his horse into check beside the man, the staff in his hand wobbling slightly. "Lancelot has gone ahead, we need to go."

"I know." He said, standing and pulling his helmet on over his hair. "I know."

Tristan felt the Saxon king take his hair in his hand and looked up. He saw the hawk flying over him and remembered the necklace that Douma had given him. 'This is it…' he thought, watching the hawk wheel over his head. 'This is the end…'

'I will wait for you.' "I know…" He barely managed to whisper as he felt something run across his chest. There was no pain but everything went black.

He blinked and opened his eyes slowly, staring at the blue sky over him. "You are awake!" A voice he remember very clearly said from somewhere to his side. He turned his head and stared blankly at the face of Range as he laughed. "He finally came!" The giant man called with a grin as he pulled Tristan into a standing position. "We were waiting here for you for some time, we were actually glad though."

Tristan stared at him, although it had been many years since he had last seen the other knight he was not older. "I… I was fighting…" He began.

"I know." Range said, clapping him on the back. "We all know."

Tristan looked around and saw Lancelot standing beside Dagonet, both of them no more then eighteen years old. "What…?"

"Tristan!" A happy shout made him turn and he saw Douma running toward him, throwing her arms around him and laughing as she did. "I am both happy and sad to see you!" She exclaimed, "But I have had good company to share the years with."

"I do not understand…" Tristan said, suddenly aware that everything seemed taller then it should have been.

"You are dead." Lancelot said with sigh, "We all are." He turned and stared out over the grass fields that spanned as far as they could see, the wind blowing the birds across it like fish in an ocean.

"But where…?" Tristan began, Douma still holding onto him as he hugged her back.

"This, is Sarmatia." Range said with a laugh. "You do not even recognize home anymore?" He smiled widely and patted him on the back again. "We are all home." He said, "Well, excepting Douma of course."

"I told you I would wait for you." Douma said, pulling back, "We all did." She paused, "The others went ahead of us…"

He stared around at the landscape, everything infinitely more beautiful then it had ever been to him before. "I know." He said quietly, taking her hand in his and following the other knights as they walked off.

"Father!" A small Sarmatian boy said as he ran toward a man, "Come and see father!" He ran up a small hill as quickly as his short legs could carry him.

"What?" The man that had been walking away from him said questioningly as the small boy ran around his feet. "What is this now?"

"Come and see!" The boy said again, pulling his arm and leading him toward a large paddock behind their home. There lay five newborn horses, one pure white, one mottled grey, two black and one a reddish brown. The other animals giving the mothers and the new babies plenty of room.

"Well, look at that." The father said, smiling at the five baby animals. "Those are great knights." He said with a smile.

"Great knights?" The small boy asked.

"That's right." The man said with a smile. "The legend says that when a great knight dies in battle he is born again as a great horse." He stared at the animals and smiled, "You are named after a great knight." he said, leaning on the fence as the boy climbed up to stand on it and get a better view.

"You mean uncle Range?" He asked, staring at the white horse which showed its teeth as if it were smiling. "Is that him father?"

"I think it is." He said with a smile, "And Uncle Dagonet had a black horse."

"I think that one is Dagonet." The boy said, pointing to the larger of the two black colts which tossed its head as he spoke.

"Is that what we should call them?" The man asked, "Just like you and your brother?"

"Yes." The boy said with a smile. "And they will grow up to be great knight horses just like uncle Dagonet and Range were great knights!" He smiled widely and his father placed his hand on his head, mussing his hair as he finished.

"That is right." He said, laughing slightly. "And what of the others?"

"They are great knight horses too!" The boy said happily, smiling as the smaller black horse stood for a few seconds, wobbled and fell back down.

"Dram!"

The man turned his head and saw his wife walking around the shelter looking for him. "We best little Range." He said with a grin, picking the boy up. "We have work to do or your mother might get angry, and we do not want that."

The boy smiled, "Alright!" He laughed and said loudly, "Why do you call me little Range?"

"Because your uncle range was the biggest man I had ever seen!" Dram replied , holding his arms up and out in an exaggeration of his older brother's size. "He was part giant some said."

"Really?" The boy asked and his father nodded to him. The boy looked over his father's shoulder and waved as a hawk circled over the pen and landed on the mottled colt's back, spreading its wings before it settled back down. The mottled horse lifted its head and looked at the hawk for a moment before letting its head rest on the ground and closing its eyes.

THE END

Questions:

Q: How long have the knights been in service?

A: This is their first mission, they have been training for two years.

Q: Is Douma's death why Tristan has no remorse about killing Woads?

A: Yes

Q: Are they in the same village featured in the movie?

A: No, this village is close to the wall but set farther back and is the 427 AD version of the city of Hull

Q: What's with the Tristan, Douma, Galahad thing?

A: The Tristan, Douma, Galahad thing was an idea brought about by the way Tristan and Galahad act toward one another during the movie.

Q: What do the original knights look like?

A: visit http/remmygirl. drawings of them, labeled by name


End file.
